In Your Head: South Park

DeJa Vu

Finally, Tweek had slept through an entire night and aside from a full bladder, he felt good.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the boy sat up his bed to find his room a complete mess.
Papers were strewn across the floor, books had been thrown off of their shelves, his desk chair was tipped over and his closet door was wide open.
"Gah!"
A twinge of worry sparked in Tweek's chest.
Have I been robbed?
He pondered on the theory, deciding against it.
The doors had been locked as always and his family had nothing of value. Besides, a burglar wouldn't risk coming into someone's home while they it was occupied by the residents.
Could a raccoon have come through the window?
No. The window's locked and a raccoon couldn't flip a chair!
Tweek thought some more, his heart rate increasing.
My parents might have come into my room looking for something?
Though, wouldn't they just ask me?
What would they have been looking for?
Why didn't I hear the commotion?
Those drugs must have really knocked me out.
Tweek decided he would have to investigate.
He'd start by talking to his parents.

After wandering around his room looking for clues and finding nothing of significance, Tweek headed down stairs.
"Mum, Dad, have you been in my room?" Asked the teen, taking a seat at the dining table.
"No, why?" Answered his mother, turning to hand her son a mug of coffee.
"Oh. Nevermind."
Tweek picked at his breakfast.
It felt as if rocks had spontaneously spawned in the pit of his stomach, extinguishing any scrap of an appitite he may have had.
"Something the matter, son?" His father interrogated.
Of course not. My classmate only gave his life by jumping in front of a car to save my life. What could possibly be wrong?
Why are they acting so normal?
Without looking up, Tweek shook his head. "No. It's nothing."
"How are you feeling dear? You're so lucky you weren't hurt. We were so worried," pressed his mother, in her low, husky voice.
"I'm- um- fine," Tweek lied.
"I'm glad to hear that dear. Eat up," she smiled.
I'm sure they're hiding something from me, but why?
What were they looking for?
Then again, if my parents are telling the truth, then who could have trashed my room while I was sleeping?
A shiver of forbidding ran up the boy's spine like a spider crawling speedily up a wall.
Something about this didn't sit well with the boy.
This is way too much pressure!

Hospitality was Tweek's first class, one the blond haired barista rather enjoyed.
Despite the pressures of the kitchen and his efforts to perfect his assignments, Tweek felt rather comfortable in this class.
Cooking and serving food was nothing new to him.
As soon as the boy could walk and talk he had been working at his parent's coffee shop.
Therefore, Tweek had plenty of expirience in hospitality and this gave him confidence in the class.

Right now however, the jittery boy was fumbling and dropping everything he picked up.
Tweek was still terribly stressed.
His grief and guilt towards the loss of Kenny had not subsided.
It was almost worse that noone wanted to talk about it.
Did everyone just assume if they didn't speak of the sore topic, the dead boy would be forgotten and the pain would go away?
People even had the audacity to smile and spew their usual nonsense like it were another average day.
That didn't seem fair to Tweek.
Kenny should be remembered and honoured for his sacrifice but noone even cares!
Then a thought struck him, driving an invisible dagger into his heart.
What about Kenny's parents?
I'll have to apologize to them. This afternoon would be a better time than ever, I suppose.
Oh God, what am I going to say?

On top of his tremendous guilt, Tweek was also terribly worried, not to mention baffled.
Who could have made such a pig-sty of his room, what was their reasoning and how was it that he did not wake up when it happened?
What if the doctors were wrong?
What if everyone has been lying to me and the shadow-man-thing is real?
Jesus!
What if they're all conspiring against me?
Tweek frowned.
No, that can't be true. Craig would never lie to me.
But, if I'm not crazy and there really is a monster, it might be responsible for the mess.
What would a monster it want from me?
The spazzy blond could not keep the horrific beast and it's ominous intentions off of his mind.
Am I crazy?

Too distracted by his thoughts to properly focus, the blond turned to his oven to find he'd let his cake burn.
"Ack! Great! Now I'm going to fail!" Tweek muttered, hurridly pulling the cake tin out of the oven and setting it aside to cool on the bench.
"You okay, Tweek?" Asked Clyde, raising a brow from the opposite side of the bench.
"Ngh. I'm- urgh- fine, thanks," replied the blond, though gritted teeth, clearly frazzled.
Clyde rolled his eyes. "Psssh. Yeah, right," he scoffed.
Butters, noticing Tweek's frustration, skipped over cheerily.
"I might be able to help," He offered,
leaning over the bench to inspect his classmate's miserable looking cake.
"Its really not so bad," he declared with a reassuring grin, "A bit of frosting is all it needs!"
Tweek's eyes lit up hopefully and he gave a small, lopsided smile.
"Really? Thank you, Butters."
"Its okay," the short boy replied with a shy smile of his own, "You've been through a lot. Its understandable if you're distracted."
Tweek felt a pang of gratitude for Butters.
He was kindhearted and always trying to help others.
Though Tweek was surprised that the boy was being kind to him of all people.
After all, it was his fault that Butter's best friend was dead.
Tweek's eyes glossed over for a moment, sorrow welling in his chest, before he turned back to his new cooking partner.

"Annie, could you pass the pink frosting?" Butters called.
"Sure," replied the girl, her short yellow locks bouncing as she turned to grab the piping bag.
Slam!
The whole class stopped what they were doing as the kitchen door swung open with a clatter.
Tweeks heart froze when he saw who strutted into the room after it.
It was none other than the boy in the orange parka.
"Sorry, I'm late," Kenny hollered, throwing his tattered backpack onto a bag-hook.
Tweek blinked in disbelief.
His jaw fell open as if it had broken of its hinges.
"What the fuck?"
But, hes....dead!
I saw him die!

Was Kenny a ghost now?
Tweek remembered seeing the boy's spirit lift from his body after he'd been hit by the car.
Doesn't he know hes dead?
Oh, the poor thing!
He looks so...life-like.
Wait...
GHOSTS ARE REAL AND I CAN SEE THEM?
"Hiya, Kenny!" Butter's voice cut through his thoughts.
Tweeks eyes widened further and tore his eyes from Kenny to now gape at Butters.
What's going on?
Can Butters see ghosts too?
"Morning, Kenneth. Glad you finally decided to show up. I hope you have a late slip," Mr. Richardson muttered unethusiastically.
Tweek whipped his head around towards their teacher, his heart hammering against his chest.
He watched incredulous as Kenny rolled his eyes, "You know I don't."
"In that case you have detention after school," ruled the teacher.
Kenny simply sighed in defeat.
"Wait. What? But-" Tweek stammered out loud.
How could this be?
This can't be a hallucination!
"Uh- are you alright there, Tweek?" Kenny turned to the twitching boy, eyebrows raised in confusion.
Tweek froze.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" Screeched the panicked boy, dropping everything and fleeing the room, leaving the class staring after him in bewilderment.